


a little death

by dannyikigay



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: BDSM, Blood, Forbidden Love, Knifeplay, Love/Hate, M/M, Mirror Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21922105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannyikigay/pseuds/dannyikigay
Summary: Wrapping his arms around his body, Tyki lifted him from the mattress, Allen’s hair flowing incoherently over his shoulders like a halo. Tyki, fiery, flipped Allen on the bed, on all fours, facing the mirror that stood opaque in front of the bed. Staring at their reflections, Tyki threw his fingers into Allen’s mouth, heart in awe as the boy swirled his tongue around his thumb. Cheeks tinged pink, liquid silver shifting into wet pearls, kiss-bruised mouth wrapped around the man’s digits.Where they're a mess and they want each other and the only thing that remains is the mark they have imprinted on each other's body.
Relationships: Tyki Mikk/Allen Walker
Kudos: 54





	a little death

Allen’s stubbornness held Tyki’s nerves on edge in the midst of a chaotic escape, something resembling eroticism and appreciation seeping within the man’s inner core, but on the surface only a crooked, cold, _embittered_ look spread across his face, eyes narrow and jaws tense. Because, like usual procedure, Allen avoided Tyki (like he’d never been in his arms), pushed him away (like he’d never cried for him), called him a monstrous creature (like he’d never screamed his name to the night, like he’d never said it so softly with a broken, pained voice).  
  
His sweet, cursed angel looked at him like people would look at a ferocious beast. A suggestive fascination mingled with the great awareness of inferiority. Terror. Bewaring of Tyki once again, because Tyki was too _honest_ , too lunatic and too close, too _close._ But Allen wasn’t inferior to him, and Tyki had too much respect for him to consider him anything but unworthy of his time.  
  
“Why are you running away?” Tyki muttered, hands naturally clenched into fists. The wind blew through his curls, stray hair brushing his sharp cheekbone. His heart beat at the rhythm of the adrenaline rushing in his veins, danger and contrast and the terrible perspective of loss.  
  
Allen looked like he didn’t know what to say besides, “don’t touch me!”, because he really, _really_ was one foot into a sea of insanity. “Don’t touch me. Stay away! It’s all your fault!” Allen yelled, squinting his eyes wide open, the vein of his neck throbbing with violence. “It’s all you Noah’s fault! You go out your ways to kill people, you _created_ this!”  
  
Each step Tyki took, Allen distanced himself. He was shivering, the cold air washing over his pale face. So immensely thin, Allen stood in the night with invisible walls around himself. Ridiculous defences. Tyki could pierce through. Allen was terrified and pitiful. Circles around his eyes, skinny cheeks. Messy hair, thin strands sticking to his forehead.  
  
“Our fault?” Tyki repeated, emitting a breathless chuckle. “Isn’t that hypocritical for you to say that to me, boy?” he went on, the cadence of his voice dropping lower, poisonous, his heart torn apart the more they hurt each other, the more they said, the things they did. “You sow chaos wherever you go. You’re fighting for the place that condemned you,” Tyki stepped closer, his brows pinched together in a terrible frown. “You’re so lost in your insecurity, and you blame us? You blame _me_?”  
  
_Do you really want to blame me when everyone is abandoning you, when I came here to save you?  
  
_Allen gazed down at his feet, small hands trembling frantically. A pained sound slipped past his lips, high-pitched. He was about to lament something, but nothing seemed to come out his throat. Tyki’s attentive ear recognised his uncertainty.  
  
“What do you know about me, Tyki?” Allen said, visibly struggling against the thinness of his voice. “You think you can judge me, but what do you _know_?”  
  
“Can’t you see?” Tyki smiled acidly, simple. “I know you more than you know yourself.”  
  
He reached out to brush the boy’s chin with two fingers, whispering, “I’ve had you in my arms, remember?”  
  
Allen slapped his hand away, furrowing his brows in a defensive expression. “Does that matter? Does that make you _know_ me?”  
  
Tyki’s hand dropped back to his side, and he swallowed a mouthful of a bitter taste, a venom. “You’d rather forget, wouldn’t you? Do you want the hate, do you want this to continue?”  
  
“Go away,” Allen repeated, hissing. “Go away!”  
  
Tyki closed his eyes for a second, only to reopen them with an indulgent smile, a natural tenderness. But it perished softly, and there was no reason to smile. Allen was foolish. The Noah gazed at him, their eyes caught in a hurtful trick. Tyki broke the spell, his voice the only sound to be heard, low.  
  
“I’ll go,” he said dry, because he had no intention to force him when he was pathetic, when he was weak and not _him._ “But choose, boy,” Tyki said. Apocryphos was on their tracks, aiming to have his boy, to _join_ him where Tyki couldn’t. The man looked around, clicking his tongue at the roof of his mouth. Directing his gaze towards Allen, his words gentler, “ _you_ teach those monsters within you who’s boss.”  
  
Tyki’s laugh faltered, bitter. Only Allen had instilled pity in him. Tyki didn’t want him to be miserable. Allen’s motionless figure was breaking him, a strange uneasiness gnawing at his insides, stomach tied in tight knots. Tyki would have taken his face into his hands, kissed his tears away. He would have _killed_ for him, even if Allen disdained his blood-coated fingers. Then, he would have ripped off his own heart to give it to Allen, so that their blood would converge and fuse and live within one.  
  
Allen raised his head, silver eyes sparkling bright with the sheen of tears. They were vivid, carrying the traces of an existent vitality. Hope. There was hope. His lips shuddered softly, unable to find voice. He was frozen. Ice-cold.  
  
Tyki swiftly walked past him, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. There was no need to force him to come to him. Cruelty had died at the back of his black heart. Tyki couldn’t say anything else to him. Allen tensed under his touch, and Tyki didn’t want to turn around and look at his beautiful face. It would be the death of him. His undiscovered weakness. His tragedy.  
  
So he leaped into the Ark as the glinting moonlight struck his vision, a beast nibbling at his very core. _Amor.  
  
_(✽)  
  
Allen wandered through the streets, dragging his worn-out suitcase behind, the wheels clicking against the hard surface of the bricks. He disappeared into the crowd, gorgeous white hair caught in a ponytail, a scarf wrapped around his pale neck; the cold bit at the tip of his nose, where a dot of red gave colour to his wan complexion. Allen scanned every face, listened to the cadence of every step. Something into him had changed. He was free, but he was condemned. He was strong, but he was delicate. Tyki’s words resounded in his mind, and he held them in his memory in all their hurtful honesty.  
  
They tended to hurt each other like it was an easy thing to do.  
  
But Allen followed the route to the local motel, prostitutes and drug addicts and drunkards, where he’d find him. Where he’d always find him. Walking in, the wooden door creaked; a man with red cheeks and grey hair glanced at him, then went back to the journal crumpled in his hands. Allen looked around. Tyki sat at the table in the corner, cigarette hanging from his lips. A cloud of smoke fluttered in the air. He smiled at him, like he always did. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, maybe he wasn’t the right person to get along with. But they were there, rejoining only to stab each other in the heart again. It was common. It was the basis.  
  
Tyki got up, squishing the cigarette in the dirty ashtray on the table. He went past Allen, tapping against the wood of the cashier’s desk. Looking at him through the glass, Tyki had that insolent smile splayed across his face, like nothing would ever win him. It was so beautiful and so annoying and so familiar that Allen finally felt like the town was his.  
  
_He’s a friend that just came to visit me,_ Tyki told him. The man grunted something. Allen looked at him and snorted, heading upstairs. In some way, he knew it was wrong. He knew it wasn’t good for him. But as long as they ignored their feelings, Allen would treat him as a game. _You don’t know me._ Tyki didn’t understand him after all. Allen only had the time to lay with him.  
  
But Tyki draped an arm over his shoulders and leaned in for a big kiss, his soft tobacco-lips sliding against his with a slick sound, and Allen felt his heart ache, sting, crumble to pieces. Tyki must have felt like that, too. Because they didn’t understand each other, and they liked to feel hurt. And the feeling was still there, and Allen’s eyes were hazy with desire, and Tyki smiled at him like it was easy to love him, like they were meant to forgive each other. So he came back to that motel, where the alleys smelled of booze and nobody ever seemed to want to change the colour of the walls.  
  
Tyki opened the door - room 505 - and Allen walked in like it was a great ceremony, sober and silent and waiting. Tyki was quick to push him against the wall, Allen’s back squished against the cold surface with a thud, his dark hands by the sides of the boy’s head, pressing his mischievous grin against Allen’s.  
  
(✽)  
  
Allen’s tongue was in his mouth and Tyki raised his hand to grab his skinny hips, the boy moving in waves on his crotch, grinding and rubbing and _gasping._ Tyki groaned into his mouth, then put his cigarette back into Allen’s lips and the boy breathed out a cloud of smoke into the distance between their mouths, Tyki sealing the closeness with another lewd, loud kiss.  
  
Allen was naked and pure into his arms, his thighs by the sides of Tyki’s, his pink cock brushing his abdomen, Tyki’s larger dick pressed underneath his round ass cheeks. Tyki did what Allen liked; he sucked on the tip of his tongue, peering at him through half-lidded eyes, lustful, observant, _needy_. When Allen kissed, he used to keep his eyes shut and frown softly, his white eyelashes flickering like delicate petals.  
  
Tyki breathed deep through his nostrils, short and pained and _loving_. Allen intoxicated him with his sweet sounds, his soft sighs slipping past his gorgeous pink lips like an angel’s chant.  
  
At some point, Tyki took the cigarette from the boy’s fingers and extinguished it on the boy’s shoulder, a grin stretched across the corners of his lips. A loud squeal came from Allen’s mouth, a pained frown tainting his delicate features.  
  
“Ouch! That hurts!” Allen whined, holding his shoulder with his hand. He pouted right onto Tyki’s lips, like it was nothing to exaggerate about. Something he could handle. Tyki took permission to do it because Allen liked it. Tyki’s bite-marks on Allen’s neck, his hickeys on Allen’s hips, and all other types of testifications suggested that much.  
  
“You like it,” Tyki grinned, pressing an apologetic smooch to the boy’s smooth chin. Allen buried his hands through Tyki’s curls, reaching past possessiveness to be downright _painful_. His fingers were bruising, the kind of pain Tyki liked the most. Sharp and demanding. “I could do so much more to you. I could whip you…”  
  
“Or _I_ could whip you. And hold you on a leash. Maybe I’d teach you some manners…” Allen retorted, eyebrows cocked up in a cheeky expression. There was the hint of pain lingering in his eyes; in fact Allen was torturously chewing on his lip, rolling his hips on Tyki’s lap from side to side. In a certain way, it was provocative. “Fuck, that hurts.”  
  
Allen, so stupidly see-through, gazed down at the scars that burnt on Tyki’s chest. Sighing, Tyki cupped the boy’s cheek and made him look into his eyes. His stare was liquid silver, a storm and a cold ice. So Tyki kissed him, tender and wanting. His tongue swirling around and across the boy’s, his sweet taste brushing over Tyki’s tobacco breath, wet slides, closeness, addictive tenderness.  
  
“Give me the knife,” Allen murmured into the kiss, a wet strand of saliva connecting their mouths. He moved aside, allowing Tyki to get up from the bed. Tyki licked across his lips, just to feel Allen’s spit linger there. He pulled the drawer of the bedside table open, long hazelnut fingers grasping the black handle of the knife.  
  
He lay on his back, splayed out for Allen’s pleasure. The boy snatched it from his hand, letting his fingers brush across the cool metal. His careful eyes were intertwined with his, a mutual connection. His lips slightly parted, kissable. His beauty made Tyki’s heart ache. It was natural to imagine him with other men and hurt because of it. “Are you sure?”  
  
“Pfft. Don’t treat me like a maiden,” Tyki said, blunt. A smile formed on his lips, a calm ocean seeping through his veins. He was tranquil. He was _his._ “It’s annoying, really.”  
  
_Don’t worry about me.  
  
_“I’m not treating you like a maiden,” Allen countered, soft fingers tucking his hair behind his ear. “I want you to be sure. It’s...a potential danger. For you…”  
  
_For you and me and our love._  
  
Tyki put his forefinger on the boy’s lips. “Shhh. You can’t hurt me,” Tyki smiled, confident. He’d be able to understand Allen’s pain. “It’ll be our secret, boy. Like many we share.”  
  
Allen bit the inside of his cheek, wondering. He eyed Tyki’s body from head to toe, then settled his hand on the man’s tonic thigh. Tyki gritted his teeth as a natural response to the idea of the incoming pain. His dick was half-hard; wetter. Allen leaned down to press a kiss to the spot, then pressed the tip of the knife in the dark flesh, piercing through.  
  
Allen cut straight lines, two dots, and rivulets of blood started to drip down Tyki’s thigh. The pain was sizzling, scorching and freezing and caustic. Allen worked with the precision of a surgeon, his pupils wide as he stabbed his body, imprinting signs that wouldn’t have faded for years. In a few moments, Tyki’s cock was stiff and a damp drop of precum leaked from his tip. The sensation was nearly ticklish, and it left him exposed. But he looked at Allen with a raging heartbeat, breaths trapped at the back of his lungs. He couldn’t focus on anything else, even if he was bleeding for him. The deed was profane, yet innocent, an act of forgiveness, more than a mark of possession.  
  
Tyki hissed and cursed under his breath, tensening his jaws. His toes curled, Allen’s breath ghosting across his skin, thick bloody drops waving over like precious silk.  
  
Allen, knife in his hand, pressed his face against his thigh, licking across the freshly cut skin. He mouthed over the spot, drinking down Tyki’s blood in the altruistic attempt to stop the bleeding; he filled himself of his iron taste, and for a moment Tyki feared it could have reacted against his Innocence. But it didn’t, and Allen looked at him through his lashes, blood-stained lips giving him a sense of strange devotion.  
  
Tyki gazed down at himself. Allen’s initials were carved into his skin. _“A.W.”_ Precise dots, wonky handwriting, spontaneous, proof of a reverential, careful work. Allen smiled, stray fringe covering his eyes at each tilt of his head.  
  
Allen _smiled._ Tyki was breath-stolen.  
  
Without saying anything, Allen handed over the knife to him. He positioned himself by Tyki’s side, on his back, thighs pressed together. Tyki moved slowly, hovering above him like a predator. He kissed Allen’s lips, tasting the blood on his silky tongue. His scar was bleeding, less than before, staining the sheets beneath them.  
  
Allen told him so many times to go away. He’d chosen his friends. But Tyki was between his legs and he wasn’t forcing him to stay, because it was Allen’s choice and _his_ choice only.  
  
Allen wasn’t happy, and he wouldn’t be even under the covers of an anonymous motel. Tyki wanted to give him memories. Signs of his existence.  
  
Love. _Love,_ for a single night.  
  
And he pressed the knife into Allen’s skin, following the lines and the shape of his initials. His body writhed and shivered underneath his touch, tiny lamentations escaping Allen’s throat, no matter how hard he tried, Tyki felt it, to repress them from finding voice. When Tyki looked up, tears were prickling the corners of Allen’s eyes. But he wouldn’t stop. Allen didn’t want him to stop.  
  
“Tyki,” Allen breathed out his name, throwing his head back in the pillows. With a grimace twisting his face, his messy hair over his face, his bare neck, he looked like he was riding a wave of pleasure. He was delicious in every way, colourless and skinny.  
  
Dreadful, like true art was meant to be.  
  
Tyki threw the knife somewhere on the mattress, and with a clicking sound it ended on the floor. He slid the tip of his tongue on the two letters, _“T.M.”,_ groaning as Allen’s taste pervaded him. He quenched his thirst for him, licking across the wound with tormented haste, inhaling in the musky scent of his intimacy. Allen gripped his curls, letting out the softest moans. Tyki’s dick grew harder and heavier between his legs, and Tyki wrapped a hand around himself to stroke him at his insatiable want, Allen’s whole essence spurring him on like nothing else could.  
  
Allen pulled him by the hair, leading him to flush his body against Allen’s, their cuts pressed together to send sparkles of pain down their spine. Tyki caressed the boy’s neck, thumb on his hyoid, his lips moving in a kiss against his, eyes squeezed shut and breaths fused together, their bloods mixing together as their tongues slid over one another. Allen gripped his back, dragging his nails down his muscles to _mark_ him with violent reminders. And Tyki, fierce, spread Allen’s legs to wrap them around his waist, rutting against his hard pink dick.  
  
Wrapping his arms around his body, Tyki lifted him from the mattress, Allen’s hair flowing incoherently over his shoulders like a halo. Tyki, fiery, flipped Allen on the bed, on all fours, facing the mirror that stood opaque in front of the bed. Staring at their reflections, Tyki threw his fingers into Allen’s mouth, heart in awe as the boy swirled his tongue around his thumb. Cheeks tinged pink, liquid silver shifting into wet pearls, kiss-bruised mouth wrapped around the man’s digits.  
  
As he let his gaze trail down Allen’s wanton figure, Tyki noticed those red cuts, like blossoms, drying on his thigh. His letters, overlapping with Allen’s, as he pressed his body against Allen’s, cock rubbing between his round ass cheeks. Tyki’s chest scar reflected Allen’s, their muscles signed by war and sorrow and _beauty_.  
  
A bit selfishly, Tyki’s ego flourished in the awareness of being the one that hurt Allen. On another part, Joyd squirmed within; brutal instincts translated into Tyki’s strong hands at Allen’s waist, gripping _too_ harshly, _kill him kill him kill him when he still trusts you_. But Tyki didn’t want to lose himself, his humanity, Allen’s love. Their blood fusing together was a holy consecration. By the end of the conflict, they’d bathe in blood and they’d die, maimed, terrific, ugly indefinite masses.  
  
It was so beautiful and so horrible that Tyki felt like being punched in the gut.  
  
His lips printed open-mouthed kisses on the boy’s nape, following the arch of his spine; his tongue peeked out, tasting the salt of his flesh and the vague scent of peony and cinnamon. Allen swayed his hips, slow, arching his back, ass cocked up like a slut. Tyki slid the tip of his tongue across his back until he buried his face between his plump cheeks, squishing his flesh through the gaps of his fingers. He wondered if Allen liked to be tickled by Tyki’s stubble, the man’s tongue flattening across his pink hole to let it relax around it.  
  
Shaking his head, Tyki flicked his tongue on him, strained groans coming out his throat, leaving the imprint of his fingers on the boy’s backside. Tyki gave it a playful slap, feeling Allen wiggle and tighten his muscles at his touch. And he fucked him with the tip of his tongue, fast, hungry, hand sliding over his spine to take a handful of Allen’s hair, collecting his locks in a ponytail into his fist. Opening his eyes, Tyki caught sight of Allen’s exposed neck, the dip of his side, his sweet mouth gaping open as he looked at Tyki over his shoulder.  
  
“Oh,” Tyki muttered, hypnotised. “Would you even look at yourself, boy?”  
  
He straightened, leaning against the boy’s back. Allen chewed on his lips, looking at Tyki through their reflections. Tyki’s grip in Allen’s hair tightened, and the other hand reached between them to lead his pulsating cock into Allen’s warm entrance. Allen’s mouth fell open, forehead twisted in a pleasured frown, hands grasping the sheets beneath them.  
  
“ _God,_ Allen. You’re absurd,” Tyki whispered into his ear, rocking his hips in a sharp thrust. “Would you even listen to yourself?”  
  
Allen moaned, high-pitched and loud, shimmying his hips back to Tyki’s crotch, his ass bouncing on him. Tyki released his hair to wrap his arm around the boy’s chest, fingertips drawing circles on one pink nipple.  
  
“You’re a mess,” Tyki continued, voice dropping a tone as Allen’s tightness stroked him. His hold was possessive and firm around him, keeping him to himself as long as it had to last. “You deserve to be revered, amongst all things,” was a whisper like a caress to Allen’s neck, his golden eyes glinting in the mirror, voice _aching_ when he added, only for Allen to ear, “but you told me to go away, remember? Do you want me _now_?”  
  
Allen’s eyes were sad, breathless moans echoing through the walls of their room. “I want you,” Allen stuttered, fucking himself back on Tyki’s dripping length, his resolution still so stubbornly clear, “I want you, does it need...to be said?”  
  
“No. I _want_ you to say it,” Tyki claimed, commanding and severe. He snapped his hips in relentless thrusts, and his words were a challenge to Allen’s pride. “Say that you _need_ me.”  
  
Allen responded with a groan, the vacuous trace of a smirk hiding at the corner of his lip. Tyki grinned, eyes narrow. His palm landed on Allen’s ass with a resounding impact, leaving him stinging. Of course, there was no necessity to say it. Not when they imprinted each other’s name on each other’s skin. However, Tyki liked to play with him a little too much. He adored to drive him to the edge, to see where and when his shallow pride would bend.  
  
“Say it,” Tyki hissed, the blunt nails of his left hand scratching across Allen’s chest.  
  
Allen tilted his head to the side, catching Tyki’s mouth in a filthy kiss over his shoulder. He stretched out his tongue to lick across Tyki’s lips, rolling his hips from right to left and clenching his hole shut around his dick. Tyki slapped his ass cheek, dragging Allen’s lower lip between his teeth in a cruel bite.  
  
“No,” Allen breathed into his mouth, cocky. “I’d rather have you spank me.”  
  
So Tyki grabbed Allen’s scalp, squishing his face onto the mattress and forcing him to lay on his belly. He pounded into him, filling him as if he were a beast to breed, watching as Allen struggled to lift his head from the mattress, looking at himself in the mirror as Tyki penetrated him, wet cock sliding out only to push back in with a slick sound, his hand striking across Allen’s soft ass cheek.  
  
“You asked for this, boy,” Tyki grunted, leaning down to lay on Allen’s smaller body, solid chest glued to his spine, his hips moving erratically to fuck into him, “it’s like nothing can satiate you, like you want to _be_ manhandled.”  
  
The boy gasped in shame, fighting senselessly against Tyki’s grasp, rutting against the mattress. “Yes!” he moaned, voice muffled into the sheets. Only then Tyki freed his hair to let Allen throw his head back, fucking him stupid, “yes, yes yes yes yes!”  
  
Tyki’s fresh cut ached as it touched Allen’s skin, the poisonous mixture of pain and pleasure permeating him with euphoric waves. He took Allen’s earlobe between his lips, sucking on the tender skin, looking at their joined bodies in the mirror and the way they worked together, reaching the point of climax in faultless coordination.  
  
Suddenly, Allen’s movements faltered and he came to a halt, abandoning himself to the bed, under the cage of Tyki’s body, soiling the sheets - where stains of blood painted them scarlet, gorgeous, fearful. Tyki mouthed against his shoulder, trailing his velvet tongue on his skin as he bucked his hips into him, toes curling as he came, thick, hot, wet, filling Allen to the brim.  
  
Tyki let himself fall by the boy’s side, staring at the ceiling. His dick started to soften, his mouth dry. Allen rolled next to his chest, crouched into himself. Tyki wrapped his arms around him, planting a kiss to his forehead.  
  
Allen trembled weakly, like fragile glass. Tyki let go of him. He stood up to search for his packet of cigarettes. Allen had his eyes closed, still panting heavily. Tyki lit himself a cigarette, taking a long drag.  
  
When he turned around, Allen gazed at him. He raised a finger to point at Tyki’s cigarette, and the man sat on the mattress, placing it between the boy’s red lips. Tyki chuckled softly, hooking his arm at the back of Allen’s knee to make him lift his leg. Leaning down, he kissed his wound, eyes slipping closed in mute adoration.  
  
“I want this to remind you who you belong to,” Tyki stated, tracing the two letters with his fingertips. Looking up at him, he saw a strange expression on Allen’s face, the shadow of fear lurking beneath those diaphanous features.  
  
Smiling, he moved his fingers from Allen’s thigh to touch the scar imprinted on his own skin. _A.W._  
  
“And I want this as a reminder that you’re still yourself. You,” Tyki gave a pitiful smile. “Only you.”  
  
Allen parted his lips, but the words died at the back of his throat when Tyki caressed his face, like nothing else mattered.  
  



End file.
